


To Your Health and Your Happiness

by jadelennox



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Gen, Jewish Character, Muslim Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-18
Updated: 2009-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadelennox/pseuds/jadelennox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rush of indrawn breath hissed from Sara as she bit into her lower lip, the strong and wrinkled hand all that was holding her still. "I marry for my family and my people, Mihrişah Sultan," she said. "I do not begrudge them that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Your Health and Your Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://community.livejournal.com/daysofawesome/profile)[**daysofawesome**](http://community.livejournal.com/daysofawesome/) and [](http://community.livejournal.com/eid_fic/profile)[**eid_fic**](http://community.livejournal.com/eid_fic/)
> 
> [](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/us/)  
> This work by jadelennox is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/us/).

"Is that everything, Sara?" asked the Valide Sultan.

Sara Maden, kneeling on the rug, shuffled through the remaining papers in front of her. "Not quite, Mihrişah Sultan," she said. "I delivered your instructions to the ambassador to the Mysore. He's prepared to ask for the concessions you desire. The janissaries have issued another complaint to the Sultan regarding the Nizam-ı Cedid. I've drafted a response from you about the importance of us all working together, etc. etc. etc., in order to maintain ourselves as worthwhile allies to Bonaparte. And the waqf at Eyüp thanks you for your generous sadaqa, but the soup kitchen there begs you to consider the rising cost of rice."

"Quite." The Valide Sultan flicked her fingers at Sara. "The draft letter to the janissaries?" She took the letter Sara handed over and skimmed it briefly, then read it again more carefully. "Yes, excellent. Hmm." She held out the letter and pointed to the final paragraph. "You should consider how the presence of the Nizam-ı Cedid infantry units strengthens the entire empire," she read. "You are too conciliatory. If the janissaries would like to be considered modern, they too are welcome to use these French techniques. Why are we asking them to understand our choices? Don't explain, state."

"Yes, Mihrişah Sultan," said Sara, taking the letter back. "That's everything, then." She started to get up, but paused at the touch of a hand on her arm.

"Not quite everything, Sara," said the Valide Sultan. "I will be sorry to see you go when you marry, Sara Hanim."

Sara bowed her head. "I have been grateful for the opportunity, Mihrişah Sultan."

The Valide Sultan raised her hand to Sara's chin and lifted it into Sara was looking into her eyes. "Many people do not marry for love, Sara Hanim, but I rather thought you would."

A rush of indrawn breath hissed from Sara as she bit into her lower lip, the strong and wrinkled hand all that was holding her still. "I marry for my family and my people, Mihrişah Sultan," she said. "I do not begrudge them that."

The Valide Sultan raised one eyebrow. "No?"

"No." Sara's voice was firm. The hand dropped from her chin, and she dropped her gaze to her hands, crumpling Imperial documents into wastepaper in her lap. "Of course I marry within my own people. But..." Her voice trailed off.

There was a long silence, and then the Valide Sultan rose silently from where she sat and beckoned to a servant. "Bring sherbet," she said, and then returned to Sara holding a cloth. "Here, girl," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Sara made no move, and finally the Valide Sultan knelt beside her and wiped her face with the priceless linen, delicately embroidered with tulips.

In a voice which was almost inaudible, Sara whispered, "I just didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to make him hate me."

"This is the little Tibetan, no? I thought his people didn't believe in blame."

Sara stood jerkily, backing up a few steps. "He has no people," she said. "I was his people."

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning**: Seriously, everything I know about Mihrişah Sultan, the Ottoman sultanate, and Ottoman sadaqa I know from about 45 minutes of browsing the web in a rush before it's time for services, and I realize this ficlet reads like "look at all the research I did!". If _everything _here is not wrong, I will be flabbergasted; half the material I read contradicted the other half. But the more I read about her the more impressed I was. She took charge of educational reform, founded a medical school, built soup kitchens, and developed a diplomatic corps. Not at all the exotic seraglio maiden that Laurence's men hoped to spy upon, eh?
> 
> **Warning 2**: Warning, this is way too sappy. But there is no _time_. Pretend its sticky sweetness is like honey for your apples. Also these warnings are now longer than the story.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] To Your Health and Your Happiness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283609) by [Chestnut_filly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chestnut_filly/pseuds/Chestnut_filly)




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